


Blame it on the Boogie

by DoreyG



Series: Christmas Ficlets 2015 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas Party, Community: comment_fic, Drunkenness, Flirting, Hal Jordan is an adorable Mess of a Human Being, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wayne Charity Balls, as it turns out, are <i>boring</i>. He accepted the invitation on a laugh, sure that he'd at least have the opportunity to bug Bruce endlessly, but now he's starting to regret it. It's just all so <i>dull</i>. Dull people, dull conversations, dull food, dull <i>dullness</i>. About the only thing that has any value is the wine.</p>
<p>...Which may, on reflection, be a bit of a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the Boogie

Wayne Charity Balls, as it turns out, are _boring_. He accepted the invitation on a laugh, sure that he'd at least have the opportunity to bug Bruce endlessly, but now he's starting to regret it. It's just all so _dull_. Dull people, dull conversations, dull food, dull _dullness_. About the only thing that has any value is the wine.

...Which may, on reflection, be a bit of a problem.

"Mr Jordan," Bruce finally deigns to speak to him two hours into the party, striding over with an insincere playboy smile and an entirely sincere Batman _look_ in his eyes, "I see that you made it."

"That's what she said," he jeers, and has the truly _awesome_ sight of Bruce blinking at him before forcing an ever so casual laugh, "seriously, though, I've been here two hours. Thought you were a detective, or something."

"Only an amateur one," Bruce says jovially, and gives him the subtlest death glare that he's ever seen. God, somewhere in the universe Sinestro is _sobbing_ in envy, "and I've been busy. Lots of arrivals, lots of people that I haven't seen for _years_. You know how it is."

"Nope."

"Well, you can imagine," Bruce smiles, and it's possibly the nicest order that he's ever received from big bad Bats. Perhaps he really _should_ go to more of these parties, "tell me, Mr Jordan, are you having fun?"

And, God, if he's thinking shit like _that_ perhaps he really is a bit drunk. He beams a little brighter, just to cover it, "not really."

"A great-"

"The people are boring," he declares loudly, but decides that since he's still grinning everything is _fine_ and the scandalized glances around them are for Bruce instead, "their conversations are _dull_ , the music is awful, the canapes leave a _lot_ to be desired and there don't seem to be any closets set aside for the good old pastime of making out. All in all the only actually enjoyable thing is the eye candy."

"Jordan-" Bruce starts warningly, then seems to remember that other people are watching and _judging_ and forces a smile instead, "but Mr Jordan, surely that's a contradiction! You just accused all my guests of being boring."

"I did," he nods grandly, and lowers his voice to a whisper for the grand denouement, "but _they're_ not the eye candy."

"...Oh?"

" _You're_ the eye candy," he declares, and wobbles back a little. Catches himself at the last second, because he's still grinning and so he's _fine_ , "I mean, _god_ , have you seen your ass in that suit? Fucking _hell_ how is anybody supposed to focus on anything else?"

"Hal..." Bruce stares at him for a second, almost thoughtfully, then gives a resigned sigh, "Mr Jordan, how much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Only a few glasses," he huffs, and watches Bruce's eyebrows go up. Which is just insulting, really, because he is _not_ anywhere near drunk and there's no reason to act like he is, "one or two. Or three, maybe four. Can you really _blame_ me?"

" _I_ can't, no," Bruce says very deliberately, in that certain tone that means that he'll be catching _hell_ for this the next time he sees Batman, "wouldn't you rather sit down, though? Or lie down somewhere more comfortable? Before you... Ah, fail to indulge further."

He blinks for a second, sways for a second. Bruce watches him, patiently and carefully and with an odd smirk quirking the corner of his lips.

"...So you _do_ have make out closets!"

"Later, Mr Jordan," Bruce says a touch wearily, almost fond as he shakes his head, "we can talk about that _later_."


End file.
